


Bros and a Can of Soup

by beansproutstories



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 02:06:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9636122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beansproutstories/pseuds/beansproutstories
Summary: Based on a prompt from dailyau.tumblr.com; Minghao ventures out into the cruel, cold world for soup and he encounters a very tall, sniffly wrench in his plan. Cream of mushroom soup can be dangerous. Mingyu hates conflict. “I told you I was sicker than you were.”





	

Minghao wrapped himself up in a quilt and slipped on house shoes over thick socks. He never did find the energy to wear real shoes, and he figured that if dressing down would ever be appropriate, it’d be on a convenience store run. Minghao stuffed his pockets with tissues and cough drops to prepare for his excursion, shivering at the thought of venturing out into the snow with congested, achy lungs. But he was out of soup and the idea of having something warm in his system kept him pushing forward, so he slipped a grey and red striped beanie over his head and braced himself for the cold. Minghao barely had to pull on the knob before the door crashed against him, pushed violently by the snowstorm. The wind cut down to his bones and he wrapped the blanket tighter around himself with his free hand. He slipped out the door quickly before snow was able to pile up in his living room. Okay, stay strong, Xu Minghao. Think about the soup. Think about the soup. Minghao psyched himself up as he shuffled down the stairs of his apartment complex, the blanket covering every part of his face except for his eyes. 

The convenience store was literally just around the corner, and yet Minghao still wasn’t sure whether or not he was going to survive the walk in the snowstorm. Down to the three pairs of gloves cutting off blood circulation to his fingers, every part of his body was wrapped in layer on layer on layer of clothes. He was a little self-conscious that the person at the convenience store would judge him for wearing the blanket around him, but after just a few steps into the snowstorm, he was thankful he brought it with him. Minghao sighed in relief and picked up his pace as he rounded the corner to see the little convenience store lights through the snowfall.

The bell jingled as he opened the door, harmonizing with the “welcome” call from whoever was at the register. Minghao didn’t even bother to shake the snow off before he beelined towards the canned food aisle. Because this wasn’t the first time he’d made a late-night run to the convenience store for soup in the past couple of weeks, he knew exactly where he was going. As he got to farthest aisle from the entrance, he recognized a familiar back-of-the-head peeking over the shelves. Minghao narrowed his eyes and removed the blanket from around his head. “Mingyu?” he said as he turned the corner. 

Mingyu turned to look at him with a sniff, eyes slightly bloodshot. It took Minghao about 3.8 seconds to realize that Mingyu had come to the convenience store for the exact same reason he had. “Oh, hey man,” he started, sounding like he couldn’t breathe through his nose. “Just here to get some soup. I came down with a nasty cold the other day and I’m dying for something warm.”

Minghao glanced at the shelf then glanced back at Mingyu. He did this two more times before he finally took a deep, ragged breath and asked, “Mingyu?”

“Yeah, Hao?”

“…Is that the last can of soup?”

Mingyu laughed. “Oh no! Don’t tell me, you came here for soup too?”

Minghao did not laugh back. “I did, actually. That’s exactly what I came here for.”

Mingyu’s laugh descended into an uncomfortable chuckle as he examined the expression on Minghao’s face. “Um… Well, I’m sorry, friend, I think this is the last one. I bet there are still frozen meals in the freezer if you want to…” Mingyu hesitated as Minghao continued to bore into him with his eyes, “…go check those out…”

Minghao sighed deeply once again to try and retain his composure. “Mingyu,” he started, “do you know how far I walked in the snow to come and buy this soup?”

Mingyu hesitated before replying. “Um… Not very far I don’t think,” he said meekly, “We live in the same apartment complex, and it didn’t take me very long–”

“Well your legs are much longer than mine,” Minghao interrupted. “So you put in significantly less energy to walk here from the apartment complex.” Minghao readjusted the blanket over his shoulders. “Anyways, I am much sicker than you are.”

Mingyu gave Minghao a dramatically offended look. “What makes you say that?” 

“I’ve been sick for weeks! I haven’t heard you cough once from my apartment!” Minghao said, following up with a (maybe slightly dramatized) cough from deep in the pit of his chest. 

“Okay but,” Mingyu stammered for an excuse, “that doesn’t make you sicker than me! I’m still in the most serious stages of my cold, and yours is practically over!”

“How would you know that? If I die tomorrow, you’re going to feel awful, my father is going to blame you for my death, my mother will never smile again, and you are going to be banned from attending my funeral procession.”

Mingyu sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. “Okay, how about this,” he started gently, straining to try and sound civil. “We just… share the soup. One of these cans makes a huge bowl of soup anyways. I’ll even buy a pack of those chocolate chip cookies and we can munch on those too. Deal?” 

Minghao looked down at his feet, somewhat pouting. “I mean… I guess we could share the soup.”

Mingyu could sense Minghao’s disappointment. “Look, you can come next door to my place, we’ll put on game shows or something, and we can eat soup and cookies. That sounds better than eating soup alone, right?”

Minghao had to admit, he did love game shows. “I guess that sounds like fun.” 

“Great!” Mingyu exclaimed, “You buy the soup, I’ll buy the cookies, then we’ll try to get back to the apartments without freezing to death. Deal?”

“If you buy both, we’ve got a deal.”

“Deal.”

 

Minghao absentmindedly popped chocolate chip cookies into his mouth as he scrolled through the game shows on Netflix. He’d rolled up his quilt to use as a pillow since the only throw pillow Mingyu owned was the decorative one in his kitchen that had the words “kiss the chef” stitched into it. Mingyu stuck the big bowl of soup into the microwave and called out to Minghao, who was laying on the couch. “Hao! What did I tell you? That can easily made enough for two people.” 

_Lucky for you, too,_ Minghao thought. “I just hope that soup is any good,” Minghao replied. “I’ve never had cream of mushroom soup before.”

“After the fuss you made, you’re eating this soup whether you like it or not,” Mingyu said, shoving Minghao’s legs over so he could sit on the couch.

Minghao pulled his knees to his chest so Mingyu had room to sit down. “I didn’t make a fuss. I was very calm.”

“You looked like you actually could’ve killed me right then and there.”

_And I would’ve._ “No I didn’t.”

Mingyu laughed and grabbed the Apple remote from Minghao. “I was honestly fearful for my life in that moment.”

_Damn right._ “Come on, give me some credit. I’m a nice person,” Minghao whined pitifully.

“Yeah, whatever,” Mingyu replied as he searched “horror movies” on Netflix. 

Minghao let out a raucous fit of coughs. “Please don’t put on a horror movie,” he wheezed. “I just want to watch Deal or No Deal.” 

Mingyu reached over and grabbed two tissues out of the box on the coffee table, one for himself and one for Minghao. “I know you like horror movies,” Mingyu replied, handing Minghao the tissue. 

“But I don’t think my heart can take it today,” Minghao replied with a hint of defeat in his voice.

Mingyu looked at him with furrowed brows. “You’re really feeling that bad?” 

Minghao didn’t want to seem whiny, especially since he had to take extra precaution with his pride around Mingyu. He shrugged and coughed into the tissue Mingyu gave him.

Mingyu began to speak but was interrupted by the sound of the microwave beeping.

“Soup’s done,” Minghao murmured with weak excitement in his voice.

Mingyu got up to grab the soup from the kitchen, putting a sympathetic hand on Minghao’s knee as he hoisted himself off of the couch. “Going out into a snow storm while you’re sick just for soup is pretty dumb,” Mingyu scolded, tossing Minghao the Apple remote. 

Minghao caught the remote with two hands. “You did it too!”

Mingyu walked into the kitchen. “But I really do think you’re sicker than I am,” he called. 

“Told you. Does that mean I get to eat all of the soup?” Minghao yelled to Mingyu from the couch, a coughing fit erupting at the tail end of his sentence.

Mingyu brought the bowl of soup in with two pot holders. “If it’ll get you to stop making those god-awful coughing noises, eat whatever you want. Empty my pantry.” Mingyu picked up Minghao’s legs before he sat down. “I’m not gonna let you keep me up with that coughing.”

Minghao looked sideways at Mingyu, suddenly becoming self-conscious. “Is it really that loud from here? Even from my apartment?”

“Oh yeah,” Mingyu replied, grabbing a spoon from his pocket and handing it to Minghao. “You sound like you’re dying over there.”

“And you still almost didn’t let me have my soup!” Minghao shook his head in mock disappointment as he took the spoon from Mingyu’s hands. “Some friend you are.”

Mingyu leaned over and shoved Minghao’s head to the side. “Shut up and eat your soup.”

Minghao whined and rubbed his head. “Don’t hurt the sick guy.”

“Sick guys are allowed to hurt other sick guys if they’re being annoying,” Mingyu declared. “Sick guy rules.”

“Good to know,” Minghao replied, swatting Mingyu’s leg with the metal spoon as he sat up to eat his soup.

The spoon made a satisfying thwap sound as it made contact with Mingyu’s thigh. “Oooouuuuuch…” he griped.

Minghao smiled and shoved a spoonful of cream of mushroom soup into his mouth.

Mingyu sighed. “Okay,” he said, shrugging, “just for that, we're watching The Woman in Black 2.”

Minghao’s head whipped around to look at Mingyu. “No, wait,” Minghao muttered, his mouth still half-full of soup. “Please no,” he mumbled, reaching for the remote already in Mingyu’s hand.

Mingyu held out a stiff arm so Minghao couldn’t reach and started typing “Woman in Black” into the Netflix search bar. 

Minghao shook his head vigorously as he swallowed the soup that was in his mouth. As a result of trying to protest with a mouth full of soup, he found himself with a good dose of cream of mushroom going down his windpipe instead of his esophagus. Minghao dropped the spoon and placed a hand on his chest as he descended into a fit of grating coughs, his other hand grasping the upper part of Mingyu’s sleeve. 

Mingyu stopped as Minghao doubled over. “You good?”

Minghao held up one finger as if to tell Mingyu to wait a second. The coughing fit continued and Mingyu patted Minghao’s upper back in an attempt to be helpful. 

Minghao gasped for air. “I think I just breathed in cream of mushroom soup,” he wheezed.

Mingyu couldn’t help but laugh at Minghao, still patting his back. “Breathe, little buddy.” But between the soup and the fluids that had already built up in his lungs, Minghao could barely gasp enough air in between coughs to keep his brain functioning. He finally doubled so far over coughing that he went from sitting on the couch to gasping the coffee table while sitting on the floor. 

“Minghao,” Mingyu was no longer teasing. “Minghao, breathe.”

Minghao finally seemed to eject all of the fluid from his lungs with one final ragged bout of coughs. He rested his head against the edge of the coffee table and tried to focus on getting some oxygen back to his brain. His chest was burning like fire, his eyes red and filled with tears. 

Mingyu crouched down beside Minghao on the floor. “Are you okay?” he asked.

After a moment of catching his breath, Minghao laughed. “I’m okay,” he croaked. Minghao leaned back against the couch. “But man, my lungs freaking hurt.”

Mingyu tried again to examine Minghao’s expression. “Like... a lot?”

“They hurt, man,” Minghao replied, beating lightly on his chest. 

Mingyu laughed faintly. “You’re not dying, are you? I’m not going to have to explain this to your parents and be banned from your funeral procession?” As much as he was trying to lighten the mood, there was a part of Mingyu that wasn’t completely joking. 

“Would it be dramatic if I said maybe?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Then no, I’m not dying.”

“Good.”

 

Minghao ended up falling asleep on Mingyu’s couch after finishing the bowl of soup with Deal or No Deal playing at a low volume. Mingyu was in the kitchen taking cold medicine when he heard the ungodly breathing sounds – or rather, struggling sounds – Minghao was making as he slept. 

Mingyu sighed and walked over to the couch. He could hear Minghao wheezing in his sleep before he even made it into the living room. Mingyu walked sleepily to the side of the couch and saw he was laying on his back with the quilt wrapped tightly around himself. Mingyu gently shook Minghao awake. “Hey, wake up,” he whispered.

Minghao groaned and rolled over to look at Mingyu. 

“You gotta breathe, bud. Sleep on your side instead of your back,” Mingyu advised in a soft whisper.

Barely coherent, Minghao closed his eyes and nodded as he rolled over onto his side. Mingyu patted Minghao on the shoulder and grabbed the remote off of the coffee table. He switched off Deal or No Deal and quietly lumbered off to his own room with heavy eyes. Minghao breathed much better after that.


End file.
